


Heavy humid night, corner of Park and Main

by Anonymous



Series: Against All Odds [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fiona is a good sister, Hurt/Comfort, Lip is a good brother, M/M, Set Around Season 3, Sort Of, Terry Milkovich Being an Asshole, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23759755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: In which Mickey is hurt and goes looking for Ian, but finds the entire Gallagher family instead.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Lip Gallagher/Mandy Milkovich (mentioned)
Series: Against All Odds [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736494
Comments: 18
Kudos: 318
Collections: Anonymous





	Heavy humid night, corner of Park and Main

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this with the intention of it being relatively canon-compliant but it doesn't really fit into the timeline like, at all?? besides the fact that i was like "oh yeah this could maybe be early season three" but then i forgot that jimmy/steve is in the majority of season three until like the third draft so. idk.
> 
> In my head it takes place in an au of sorts where *the scene* in 3.06 doesnt happen, and, as a result, neither does anything that happens as a result, and this is like?? late season three/between season three and season four following that storyline, but i suppose it's kind of up to interpretation.
> 
> the title of this is from "I Love You Like An Alchoholic" by The Taxpayers because that song always makes me think of early era mickey (more specifically seasons 1-3, but really it works for seasons 4-5 too)

“Can’t sleep?”

Fiona turns around in her seat at the kitchen table to see Lip coming down the stairs. She shakes her head.

“Yeah. Same,” he says, taking a seat next to her.

“Smoke?” she asks, pushing the pack and lighter on the table towards him.

He accepts, lighting a cigarette as Fiona looks out at the dark backyard. It’s the middle of summer, so the sun will be up before long, bringing with it the seemingly never-ending list of things she has to do. But for now, she’s fine to smoke at the kitchen table with her brother.

Above them, the light flickers for a moment and then goes out.

“Fuck.” groans Fiona.

“You pay the electric?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t even late. Must just be the bulb.”

“I think there’s a couple under the sink,” says Lip, standing and heading over to rummage through the cabinet. He pulls out an old high-powered flashlight that they bought during a particularly long blackout years ago and sets it on the counter. Fiona grabs the flashlight, holding her cigarette in the corner of her mouth as she stands on her chair, aiming the light at the dark bulb so she can unscrew it. 

It’s then that the back window slides open. 

In an instant, Fiona's off the chair and next to her brother, grabbing the bat from where she set it against the counter after confiscating it from Carl that morning. Lip gets up as well, opening the drawer beside the sink and pulling out a large knife. They stand frozen next to each other, awaiting the intruder.

There's a loud crash as the front half of a person suddenly comes through the small frame, scrambling to pull their legs in behind them.

_“Motherfucker, goddamn it, goddamn fucking cunt piece of-”_

The person grabs on to the chair in front of them in an attempt to use it as an anchor to pull themself in. However, they underestimate how solid it is, and the chair falls over, causing them to fall back through the window.

_“Fucking hell, what the fuck, son of a bitch, what the shit-”_

Lip and Fiona exchange a concerned glance, and the stranger finally makes it fully through the window with a massive crash, pulling the curtains (and curtain rod) down in the process, as well as knocking down two more chairs. It’s then that Fiona remembers the flashlight that she had set down on the counter, light down. She continues to grip the bat with one hand, and she grabs the light with the other. She shines it in the direction of the intruder. His face looks like it’s been run over with a semi, so it’s hard to tell at first, but it’s none other than-

“ _Mickey_?” says Lip from next to her.

It’s then that they hear several sets of footsteps, and down the kitchen steps comes Debbie, holding Liam in her arms, with Carl next to her, both standing behind Ian, who has his arms outstretched protectively.

“What’s going on?” Ian says to the two of them.

“You should ask him,” says Lip, gesturing to Mickey.

Ian turns, and upon seeing Mickey, immediately rushes over to him, and, much to Fiona’s surprise, gently grabs his chin and starts to examine his face by the light of the flashlight. She didn’t even think they knew each other, aside from that time Mickey and his brothers had been trying to kill Ian, and Mickey shoplifting from the Kash & Grab.

She’s not sure she really wants to know what Mickey’s doing here. The Milkoviches have been living in their neighbourhood even longer than the Gallaghers, and everyone has always known them to be nothing but trouble. She just hopes to all god that he’s not here because one of her idiot brothers has gotten mixed up with their business practices, or, worse, pissed them off.

“What happened?” Ian asks, in a voice that’s alarmingly gentle “are you okay?”

And then, as if she wasn’t already reeling from shock, Mickey Milkovich, who she’s pretty sure has literally committed murder, quietly leans his head into her little brother’s chest, and starts to shake.

**\---**

“Carl, can you get the light?” says Ian, trying to keep the fear out of his voice as he keeps a hand placed firmly on the back of Mickey’s neck.

“It’s burnt out,” says Lip.

“We were in the middle of changing it when _he_ showed up,” Fiona adds, gesturing vaguely to Mickey.

“Okay, that’s alright. Lip, can you help me get him in the living room?” 

“Frank’s asleep on the couch,” Fiona says.

“Alright,” says Lip, taking charge, “Ian, can you help Mickey to the table and sit with him? Fiona and I are gonna handle the light.” he turns to the staircase, where Debbie and Carl haven’t moved “Debbie, I need you to go put Liam down. Carl, can you go get the first aid kit?”

They both nod, and head back upstairs.

Ian helps a barely conscious Mickey to his feet and sits him down at the table, Ian sitting down next to him. 

He’s unsure how to proceed, as, while Mickey normally threatens him with extreme violence if he attempts any kind of affection, even behind closed doors, he’s worried about Mickey. And Mickey’s clearly come here because he, at the very list, has some trust in Ian. Besides the fact that he’s pretty sure that somebody is going to ask for an explanation as to how they know each other at some point.

He doesn’t really have time to think about it, though, because Mickey just leans into his shoulder, turning his face to bury it in his t-shirt. Ian’s hand comes to the side of his head, and he pushes his hand through the dark hair.

“There we go!” says Fiona, adjusting the fresh bulb as the kitchen fills with light.

Carl and Debbie come down the stairs, Debbie without Liam, and Carl carrying the dented first aid kit. Everyone sits at the table, and Ian gently helps Mickey to sit up.

Fiona sits at the head of the table. She opens the first aid kit, pulling out a large, half-empty bottle of antiseptic.

“Alright, look,” says Fiona sternly, dousing several cotton balls in the acrid liquid “Obviously we’re going to let him stay if he needs to, assuming the shit he gets up to at the Milkovich house does not come under my roof, and he understands that Carl is not to be given weapons. But you- ” she points harshly at Ian, before dabbing at a wound above Mickey’s left eyebrow “are going to tell me what the fuck is going on. Right now.”

“What do you mean?” says Ian, opting to play dumb.

It’s the wrong move.

Fiona stops what she’s doing, and turns to stare directly at him.

“I am not fucking kidding with you, Ian. It’s clear that the two of you have a thing for the Milkoviches” she says, sparing a withering glance in Lip’s direction “but I trust you two not to be idiots, and I have other things to worry about, so I leave it alone. But when it enters my home at ungodly hours of the night and rips down my curtains in the process, I think I have some sort of a right to know” she sends him one last glare, before resuming cleaning Mickey’s wounds.

Ian nods quietly. “Mickey and I are, we’re, well-” Ian struggles to find the words to describe their relationship. He has a few that _he_ would use, of course, but he doesn’t want Mickey to flip his shit (he’s still not convinced the shoulder thing wasn’t just some kind of fluke).

“We’re together” Mickey grunts, as Fiona wraps a bandage around the spot she had been cleaning. 

“Um… right,” says Ian, feeling himself blush.

Fiona, to her credit, barely reacts, simply letting out a small “huh.” and pausing momentarily, before shaking her head and placing the bandages back on the table. Mickey hisses as Fiona moves to the bridge of his nose.

“So, wait, Mickey, what happened?” asks Lip

“was telling Mandy I had plans with Ian,'' says Mickey, grimacing as Fiona continues to clean his face “We were in the living room because everyone was on a run, but turns out they got back early. My pops was in the kitchen.”

Ian feels his heart sink.

“Beat the shit out of me. Mandy got him to calm down for a minute so I could make a run for it. Ian told me your back window doesn’t lock, if I ever needed to come here.”

Ian is vaguely surprised he remembered that. Ian had mentioned it ages ago when Mickey made an offhand comment about his dad pissing him off. Mickey had scoffed at him, and just said “thanks, but I’m good.”.

“Is Mandy okay?” Lip asks.

“She’ll be fine,” says Mickey “he might yell at her, but it’s nothing she can’t handle. Most likely he won’t hit her since she’s a girl and all, but if he does, I told her to come here soon as she can. He’s probably just gonna pass out on the couch for, like, fifteen hours and come looking for me when he wakes up. He’ll never admit it, but the bastard’s gettin’ old. Those runs tire him out a lot easier than they used to.” 

He pauses for a moment, before looking straight at Lip “look, if he lays a hand on her, i”m gonna fucking kill him, and I assume you two douchebags, as well as my brothers’ll be right there with me. He knows that. She’ll be _fine_ ”

If Ian didn’t know better, he’d say Mickey was trying to be reassuring.

Fiona sets the used cotton balls on the table, and Mickey leans back against Ian. Fiona looks down at him, concerned.

“Did you get hit in the head?.” she asks.

“Sure did,” says Mickey, rather matter-of-factly “Kicked me with his workboots on, punched me around, and broke a bottle on it.”

Fiona and Ian exchange concerned looks. All of a sudden, Mickey leans forward, gagging.

“Carl, get him a-”

“On it!” says Carl, scrambling to his feet. He pushes a bowl in front of Mickey just in time.

“Fuck. That can’t be good,” says Lip.

“No shit,” says Fiona. “Debs, I want you to see if you can get Vee. Lip, can you go with her?

They both stand and disappear out the front door a moment later.

Mickey is laying on Ian's chest again, and Ian doesn’t even know where to start helping. He just sits there, watching them all. 

“Carl, can you deal with this?” says Fiona, handing Carl the bowl of puke.

Carl grimaces, but nods, going to flush it.

“What should I do?” asks Ian, feeling rather useless, especially when it's his fault they're all doing this anyway.

“You?” says Fiona “You should stay right there with Mickey, and make sure that he’s okay.”

Fiona wraps the bloody cotton balls in a paper towel before throwing them out, replaces everything in the kit, and then washes her hands at the kitchen sink. Carl closes the plastic case and takes it upstairs without even being asked. 

Ian just sits there quietly, following Fiona’s instructions. He presses a kiss to Mickey’s head, brushing his fingers through his hair.

The front door opens, and in comes Veronica, trailed closely by Lip and Debbie, the latter carrying her large medical bag. She’s wearing a robe and slippers, looking rather disgruntled.

“Look, I love you guys, and I would always wake up at this hour for _you_ , but a fucking _Milkovich_ is a different story. Do you know how much Terry has cost The Alibi over the years in damage with the shit he starts in there? Because-”

Upon seeing Mickey's beaten face, slumped into Ian, she stops dead, standing in the middle of the kitchen and cutting herself off.

“Yeah, he doesn’t look so good,” she says dully.

She sits down where Fiona had sat, Debbie placing her bag on the table.

“Is he sleeping?” she says to Ian, sternly. Ian recognizes that as her nurse voice, one all of the Gallaghers have heard in their lives more than once.

“No, I don’t think so. He seems really tired, though.”

“Mickey, can you sit up?” says Veronica “I'm gonna make sure you’re okay.”

“‘Fucks happening?” asks Mickey.

“We just need to make sure you’re not concussed or anything, Mick. It’ll only take a sec.” says Ian, shifting Mickey forward in his chair.

Ian sits incredibly still while Veronica examines Mickey. He’s trying to pay attention to the conversation, but none of it really means anything to him. His mind is completely blanking on what little medical training he’s had at ROTC,. Lip opens a beer and puts it in front of him, but he ends up just holding it in his lap and gripping it so hard his knuckles turn white.

“Okay,” says Veronica “he probably does have a concussion, but it seems mild. He should be okay to go to sleep. But you should probably take him to the ER tomorrow, because I can’t really know anything for sure just by practical observation. Just don’t let him drink, get hit in the head, or do anything that strains his eyes, like reading or watching tv, between now and then.”

Mickey snorts “I don't _read._ ”

“Should we do anything else?” says Ian, ignoring him.

“You should go to sleep, and stop worrying so much. I’m serious, he’s gonna be fine. But I do need to stitch _that_ up.” she says, pointing to a particularly large gash in his head that’s leaking through the bandage Fiona had put on it.

Relief washes through Ian as Veronica rummages through her bag.

“Alright, monkeys, back to bed. Try and get a little more sleep, alright?” says Fiona, ushering Debbie and Carl upstairs.

“I’m gonna get you something to sleep in,” says Ian, looking at Mickey.

Mickey grunts. “Whatever.”

Ian smiles as he goes up the stairs, glad that he’s back to normal.

Lip follows shortly behind him, leaning against the doorway of the bedroom they used to share as Ian opens the dresser.

“What’s up?” says Ian, rummaging through drawers, hoping he can find what he’s looking for in the dark.

“I don’t know.” says Lip “I’m just… surprised. I kinda thought it was just sex with you two.”

“Yeah, well. You know,” says Ian, not sure how to respond.

“I don’t, honestly. But I guess I don’t have to.”

“I guess.”

Lip is quiet for another moment, before

“You guys can have my room”

Ian stops.

“What?”

“I don’t mean, like permanently. Mostly because Mandy will never stay here again if she has to sleep in the same room as Carl. But you can have it for a night or two. He’s been through some shit, you guys should be alone together.” he pauses for a moment “well, as alone as you can be in this house”

“Wow,” says Ian, dumbfounded “thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem. Just please don’t have sex in my bed. Or at least put the spare set of sheets on the bed first if you do, they’re on the top shelf of the hall closet.”

“Mickey is likely concussed, as a result of his father beating the shit out of him for being gay, like, a few hours ago. I don’t think it’s gonna be an issue.”

“Right. Yeah, didn’t think about that.”

Ian laughs, grabbing the clothes he’s picked out and heading down the hall. Before he enters the room, he turns back to Lip, who is standing beside Ian’s bed, changing his shirt.

“Hey, Lip?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re a good brother.”

Ian can’t make out his face, with just the hall light on, and only the first curls of daylight starting to creep in. but he can hear the smile in his voice.

“Thanks, you big pussy.”

Ian flips him off at the nickname as he opens Lip’s door, tossing the clothes he grabbed for Mickey on the bed and heading back downstairs.

Veronica and Fiona are chatting as Veronica packs her bag, while Mickey sits at the table, poking at the newly bandaged wound on his head.

“You good for bed?” says Ian.

“Yeah, let's go. I’m fucking beat.”

“You alright to go up without me? It’s the second door from the left, Lip is letting us use his room. I’ll be up in a sec.”

“Can’t believe I'm sleeping in the bed your brother fucks my sister in” Mickey grumbles, heading up the stairs.

Veronica and Fiona both snort as Ian frowns and turns to them.

“Guys?” he says, as they look up at him “thank you.”

They both smile, and pull him into a (somewhat awkward) him into a hug.

“Of course,” says Fiona.

He's about to leave, before Veronica speaks.

“Also, Ian?”

“Yeah?”

“This is just as awkward for me to say as it is for you to hear, but no physical activity with the concussion.”

“What?”

Veronica sighs.

“Please don’t make me say it.” she says with a pointed glare “He can’t do anything strenuous, anything that requires a lot of moving around, and a lot of energy.”

“Oh.” says Ian, feeling his entire body flush with embarrassment “right. Got it.”

He goes upstairs to Lip’s room, and Ian pretends not to stare at Mickey in his t-shirt.

(Mickey pretends not to notice).

**\---**

The next morning, Ian goes downstairs to find everyone eating breakfast at the table. 

“Mickey still asleep?” asks Fiona.

“Yeah,” says Ian, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Alright, but we should probably head to the ER before too long. This doesn’t seem like the type of thing to procrastinate on”

Ian nods.

He looks at his big, messy family as they eat their breakfast. Lip is scribbling at math homework as Carl talks animatedly at him about something to do with hamsters eating each other, and Fiona is braiding Debbie’s hair, who is coaxing Liam to eat apple slices.

He watches them with a smile, and there's a knock at the front door.

Ian sets down his mug and goes to answer it, to find Mandy standing on their porch, holding a plastic shopping bag.

“Hey,” says Ian “you here for Mick?”

‘More or less, yeah. He okay?’

“I mean, sort of? He probably has a concussion, but it’s mild. And Veronica had to give him stitches in one spot. He’s pretty bruised up, too. And I can’t imagine he’s doing too hot emotionally. But he’s not dying or anything.”

He looks at Mandy and realizes she has tears welling up in her eyes.

“Hey,” he says, gently pulling her into a hug “He’s gonna be fine”

“I just feel like shit,” she says “It was my fault, you know? I asked him about it. And I thought I had heard noises earlier, but I figured it was nothing. I should have checked.” she starts to full-on sob.

It’s then that Mickey appears, rubbing his head.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asks.

“Here, look,” says Ian, removing Mandy from his front “Look at him, Mandy, he’s fine”

Mickey’s bruised face and bandaged face probably isn’t the most reassuring sight. At least he has a shirt on, covering his equally discoloured ribs and chest.

Upon the sight of him, Mandy nearly throws herself at Mickey, wrapping her arms around him. Mickey is stiff for a moment, before awkwardly wrapping his arms around her, shooting Ian an alarmed glance.

“I was so fucking worried about you, dickhead,” she says.

Mickey rubs a hand down her back, seemingly catching on to what’s going on.

“Mandy, I’m fine,” he says, softer than Ian's ever heard him talk to his sister (or anyone, really).

“He could’ve killed you” she chokes out.

“Okay, Mandy, listen. We both know that this was bound to happen at some point. There’s nothing either of us could’a done.”

She removes herself from his chest, looking up at him and nodding.

“I brought some of your stuff, figured you’d be staying here.” she pushes the bag at him, wiping her eyes “toothbrush, clothes, weed. I can try and bring anything I missed another time, I was just grabbing what I could so I could get out before dad woke up.”

“Thanks,” says Mickey quietly, opening the bag to look at it.

“You staying for breakfast?” asks Ian

“Yeah, sure. Just let me clean up a bit first,” she says, straightening her hair.

Later, they’re all seated around the table, Mickey having a conversation with Carl about how to properly smuggle a gun that Fiona is watching with a concerned look, and Debbie telling Mandy a story about a girl in her class that Mandy is periodically interrupting with different ways of calling the unnamed preteen girl a bitch.

Ian stands, grabbing all the empty dishes from the table and setting them in the sink. He turns to see Fiona standing behind him.

“I know I might have not seemed to think very highly of their family last night, and I stand by that in regards to some of them, but I don’t actually hate _all_ of the Milkoviches,” she says to him, pouring another cup of coffee. She pauses, stopping to sip her coffee with a thoughtful look.

“Put it this way, as much as I get into it with Mandy, the negative feelings I have for her were tenfold with Karen Jackson. And Mickey is a hell of a lot better for _you_ than old guys that accidentally try to have sex with our brother and are also the father of my boyfriend.”

Ian smiles fondly at Mickey as he stands, bringing him and Carl's empty bowls over to the sink as Carl runs off up the stairs.

“Fuck are you looking at?” says Mickey, turning away in an unsuccessful attempt to hide his blush.

“Nothing,” replies Ian “just the ugliest motherfucker I’ve ever seen”

Mickey punches his arm, and Ian knows everything is going to be alright.


End file.
